This memoir is filled with stories from Rupert Everett's childhood to the present: astonishing encounters; tragedy and comedy; vivid portraits of friends and rivals; razor-sharp observations of the celebrity circuit from LA to London and beyond.
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Sorry, Rupert. Your writing is indeed as beautiful as the cover reviewers implied, but the content of your narrative was not as awash with catty tales of celebrity and excess as I'd hoped. I was hoping for gossip and filth, insights and snark and dismissal of ego. Sure, you've clearly had an interesting life, but I don't like you enough to want to hear about it.
